[1] BROKEN ONE // t. stark

6

"Vision, Rhodey, could you leave us for a moment, please," Dad asked his friends politely. He didn't look at them while he talked, keeping his eyes somewhere on the floor.

     I can sense that understood my father, although it took them a few minutes to make a move. I watched as both of the men made a quick glance at each other before turning to me and gave me a knowing nod before they started leaving. "Later," they mumbled while heading for the door where I came in and exited the room.

     When Dad and I were alone, I felt very uncomfortable. I fidgetted beside Dad, suddenly felt the chill and suddenly my leg hurt again. I grabbed the hot pillow and pressed it again hoping the pain would reduce. Only I didn't know I left the pillow uncharged too long that it started to feel cold against my skin. I quickly pulled it away, and put it back on the sofa beside me while Dad was still quiet.

     I wish I could read anyone's mind, because Dad's silence kills me. I didn't know what Dad was thinking, what he was waiting for. Is he waiting for me to speal up first or is he trying to calm himself down? Or is it he's just don't know what to say? If you're thinking Dad was patience enough with my mistakes, I think you're wrong. He wasn't the one who was so patience if I did something wrong. He would always shoot me with questions. He'd know when I'm lying because he could body language well.

     But I must say, he's pretty quiet nowadays. He's keeping everything to himself until I ask him myself. He wouldn't open up with me if it wasn't me who started it. Or if this was my punishment for saying what I think out loud just because I wanted to know what was happening to him, I'd say he's not being fair. I'm his daughter. I don't care if he didn't want me to get worried. I want to know.

     With these odd things happening, I took my time by not saying anything first. Dad was being so quiet today - apart from being worried about my health when I first came in - and I wanted him to say it first when he's ready. He got up and turned to the small kitchen to get something to drink while I waited for him. And I won. Dad opened his mouth just as soon as I felt sleepy.

     "I didn't know Friday would catch up what we talk about," was his first sentence. He was still at the kitchen counter behind me. "And I didn't know what else she told you, Terri, but like Wilson said, you're not supposed to know. You're too young to know." It's funny sometimes that Dad calls someone by the person's last name. Even if the person's his best friend.

     I looked at my father over my shoulder. "You're too young to know, go to hell," I mocked him while rolling my eyes, making a face. "Stop treating me like I'm a baby. I'm sixteen and it's not funny."

     "That is why you're not supposed to know. This is not a funny thing," Dad emphasised. "Whatever the reason I called Ross to come, whatever you saw, and whatever Friday told you, you must forget about it. Pretend like it didn't happen."

     "Dad, you said it like it's not a big deal." I scoffed. It was a brave attempt, I tell you. Dad hates it when I rant. "I'm spending my Summer here is because I want to be with you. Mom's always busy with Stark Industries and I've been locked up in the house for weeks and with this leg," I whined.

     Dad somehow shook his head. "She did that for your safety, honey," he stated softly. "And you should know better with that condition. What if you got into another accident and broke your other leg or, even worst, lost them?"

     I didn't answer him. I was too annoyed to answer him. Instead, I narrowed my eyes at Dad, clenching my jaws. My father looked unharmed with my glare, and smiled at me instead.

     "You know what, when you do that, you remind me of Pepper." He looked down to his mug as if ashamed to admit that he missed Mom in front of me. The sadness in his voice was very clear as crystal. I am actually glad he didn't keep that from me, though he might want to slap himself for showing me his emotion.